


Death of a Toaster

by Korrine



Series: Toaster 'Verse [1]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: and I am emotional, aromantic relationship/ characters, basically courf and ferre are big dumb loser nerds in a platonic relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-08
Updated: 2014-08-08
Packaged: 2018-02-12 07:20:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2100594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Korrine/pseuds/Korrine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p> Courfeyrac hung in the doorway, glancing behind him into the kitchen. “The toaster. It’s broken. Dead. Gone. Kaput.”<br/>
“Oh. Are you sure?”<br/>
“Very sure. It went down in a blaze of glory, sparks and all. Definitely no doubt about it. You could even say it’s… toast.” </p>
            </blockquote>





	Death of a Toaster

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr user punkbossuet and I have created a very extensive universe that we have very eloquently named 'aro married courferre'. I tried to put the very beginning of it into fic form in honor of courferre week.

“The toaster’s broke.”  
Combeferre looked up from his book, frowning slightly. “Sorry, what?”  
Courfeyrac hung in the doorway, glancing behind him into the kitchen. “The toaster. It’s broken. Dead. Gone. Kaput.”  
“Oh. Are you sure?”  
“Very sure. It went down in a blaze of glory, sparks and all. Definitely no doubt about it. You could even say it’s… toast.”  
Combeferre shook his head. “Well, at least it was an honorable death, then.”  
“Indeed.” Courfeyrac agreed solemnly, sauntering into the room and flopping down next to Combeferre on the couch. “I’m thinking we should hold a memorial service tomorrow. The other appliances will probably appreciate the opportunity for closure, don’t you think?”  
“As long as you’re willing to say a few words. I’m afraid I’d be to choked up to deliver any kind of fitting eulogy.” Combeferre replied mildly, only half listening as he turned his attention back to his book. “Don’t worry, I’ll see about getting a new one this weekend.”  
Courfeyrac, grinning, stretched out across the couch, his feet resting in Combeferre’s lap with comfortable familiarity. They lapsed into silence, the only sound the rustle of pages, until Courfeyrac opened his mouth again. 

“We could just get married.” 

Combeferre blinked, looking up yet again from his book. His expression was neutral, surprise betrayed only by his raised eyebrows.  
“Married?”  
“Yeah, you know. People getting married always get toasters for presents.”  
“You realize that a wedding is considerably more time consuming and expensive than popping up to the store this weekend and just buying a toaster?”  
Courfeyrac shrugged, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. “Yeah. True. But still.”  
“Still what?”  
“Still, we should do it anyway. If you want to.”  
Combeferre closed his book slowly. “Let’s just say, for the sake of the conversation, that this doesn’t seem like the strangest idea you’ve ever had. Why do you want to get married?”  
“I d’know. Seemed like a good idea. There’d be presents and food and we get tax breaks and stuff.”  
Combeferre frowned slightly. “The presents are tempting, I’ll admit, but tell me, _really _, why you want to do this.”__

Courfeyrac sat up abruptly, pulling his feet out of Combeferre’s lap and sucking in a deep breathe. “Okay, well. It’s like this. I was just thinking, and it occurred to me, we’ve been living together for years, you know? And I assume that’s what we’re going to keep doing. It’s not like either of us are planning on starting dating.” He paused and Combeferre nodded encouragingly. “So then I thought ‘hell, we’re practically an old married couple’ and…it’s true, really. So why not? ‘Cause you’re really important to me, Ferre, and we’re just as much a part of each other’s lives as any married couple, and that’s the way I like it.” Courfeyrac explained, gesticulating between them to emphasize his point. “This, you and me, is how I want it to be for the rest of my life. So it just feels…right. But the more I talk about it the less sense it makes, so maybe actually the whole idea was kind of stupid to begin with. Maybe we should just drop it. Should we?” He looked imploringly at Combeferre, who frowned thoughtfully.  
There was a long moment of heavy silence before he nodded. “Alright. Let’s get married.”  
Courfeyrac’s eyes widened. “What? Really?”  
“You made a good point. In sort of a roundabout way, but still a very good point. Our relationship is important to me, as well.” Combeferre smiled wryly. “Besides, tax cuts are nothing to sneeze at. So let’s get married.”  
Courfeyrac lit up, launching himself at Combeferre and squeezing him tightly.  
“But you’re doing all the planning.” Combeferre added.  
Courfeyrac scoffed. “As if I’d leave any of it to you. You can organize a rally with attendance levels in the hundreds, but you’re pretty shit when it comes to social gatherings.”  
“I’m going to graciously ignore that slight, in honor of your newfound status as my fiance.”  
Courfeyrac rolled his eyes, kissing the top of Combeferre’s head before bounding suddenly off the couch. “My cell’s in the kitchen. I’ve gotta text everyone that I’m engaged.”  
“You’re going to give them all heart attacks.” Combeferre called after him, tone fonder than he’d intended.  
“I’d hope so.” Courfeyrac called over his shoulder, affronted. “ It’s not everyday they get news like this. At the very least, I expect someone to faint.” 


End file.
